My Classified Life

Chapter Eight: Codenames Make Everything Cooler

Over the next week and a half a few things began to become eminently clear to me: 1. I was learning more about being a spy in that short of a time then I'd learned in a long time 2. Reading lips gets more complicated when the person is talking in Spanish, or French, or Russian.. 3. Spying missions work better with groups 4. My mom was preparing us for something BIG. HUGE.

On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays we focused on our advanced schoolwork. I was basically in college by now the way my mom taught us. Which is understandable because, the more you know the more you can use it against everyone else. Its the spy way. All the other days we worked on basic skills like working in groups and following a certain target. I was assigned to lead the pack of people with Sammy follows right behind and Christina taking up the rear. Brit stayed behind at what was to be at a central location to do technical work because she's such a computer geek.

Mom had us follow her around D.C. for awhile and she carried a walkie talkie and told us if we were ever doing anything wrong. The walkie was almost going the entire time with her barking 'constructive criticism' at us. I was learning more important things everyday we closed off the week with an important lesson in body language. I'd started to take notes and I was afraid I was getting hand cramps constantly. On Monday morning mom called all four of us in for a meeting on the next mission and Christina had stayed over night. We slumped down the stairs at 7:00 in the morning with out old PJ's and hair half sticking up. I went ahead and poured myself a cup of Kool-Aid from the fridge because I hate coffee. It turned out to be the perfect burst of sugar I needed to not fall asleep on the island. Mom came up from the den dressed in dark jeans and an old black t-shirt. Her hair was perfectly made and she somehow still looked professional while just lounging around in our house.

After taking a quick sip from her French Vanilla coffee she turned to us and handed each of us a manila folder with pictures of a woman in her mid forties, maps of Paris, and a file about the woman that had written in big red letters 'CLASSFIED' across the page. She'd really gone all out this time.

“Listen up because I'm only going to say this once.” I don't think I've every heard her repeat herself.. “I've just handed everyone a file on the woman who is going to be in Paris in three days to deliver a special package to her boss. As spies your job is to plan out the mission, follow her around and prevent her from delivering the package at all costs. We've been practicing for this and I've already assigned all your positions. The base will be a hotel room in a Hilton located in central Paris not far from the Eiffel Tower. Brit will be there feeding you information on this woman's correspondents who will also be trying to get you off her trail.”

Are any of her correspondents hot teenage boys? I thought to myself and mentally shook myself and tried to listen again.

“...testing you on all the abilities you've learned including, if it comes to it, martial arts. You need to study those files and now them like the back of your hand. Brittany can only feed so much through the Bluetooth headsets I've functioned to work like walkie talkies. This is a serious mission, prepare yourselves well. That means emergency kits with backup identities, bandages for blood, cell phones, etcetera.” she looked at me and I nodded knowing I'd be the one to have to haul my heavy satchel with me all day. I was mentally making a note to pack all the different materials for disguise techniques we had reviewed.

“You should all eat some breakfast and start preparing, you only have three days before we leave at seven at night. We'll arrive in Paris at 9:00 A.M. so get ahead on your sleep.”

“I'll happily start now.” I heard Brit whisper under her breath.

“You are dismissed.”

Brit, Sammy, and Christina retreated to their beds for a few hours but I got to work on the file, being the perfectionist I am. The woman we were following went by the name Katherine Martinson and had been working for an unknown source for quite some time now. I knew my mom had made it all up but it still seemed so interesting and real. After studying the file and looking up some more information on Paris and quick disguise techniques I ate a turkey sandwich for lunch and took a nap for an hour.